


Heat

by lakrissnore



Category: Ylvis
Genre: AU No Wives No Kids, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-04-05 05:41:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4168008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lakrissnore/pseuds/lakrissnore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bård is cold and longs for the void.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heat

Bård is two weeks from turning 19. March is still mercilessly cold, but even the typical northern winter breeze doesn’t rise to the level of coldness the young man has started feeling—or not feeling; strange numbness has started haunting him like anonymous calls. Ghosts are constantly crawling behind his back. And maybe if his brother was still able to read his mind he wouldn’t feel so cornered.

He walks across the icy parking lot to where he sees Vegard’s car waiting for him, steps in. The air in the vehicle doesn’t serve the grace of warmness so Bård blows air at his fingers to warm them. Vegard taps the numbers displaying the heat but there’s no response so he just starts driving. He doesn’t turn his head to face Bård but the younger knows that if his focus wasn’t on driving, his brown eyes would look at him, bore into him and demand answers to questions Bård doesn’t understand. And Bård would feel trapped.

They drive in silence except for the curse word Vegard slips when turning left too early. Bård feels like he knows the road to their apartment better than his brother, despite the fact that he spends every car ride sneaking looks or downright staring at his brother. He wants those car rides to never end – if it was up to him, he would lull into those empty distances between the starting point and destination, between them, forever.

“Don’t you have any dreams anymore?”

Vegard is demanding answers after all. Bård figures he’s getting fed up with it, all of it. Him. And Bård hates it. Hate is what he registers of his shorthanded scale of feelings first because he cannot let fear take over him. He hates it when Vegard takes the role of a real big brother, almost a mother at times. His words have a weight that echoes more disappointment than worry, he thinks.

Bård doesn’t realise they made it to their apartment until the silence of the stopped car lingers on. The disappointment of another ride into the void being over makes it to his mind, and it almost covers the hatred and frustration. Is this what life is going to be like? Disappointment after disappointment?

“Bård,” Vegard starts and Bård wonders how much he’s going to have to hate himself after whatever is next to come. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply because that’s what he’s been told to do.

He feels his brother looking at him. He wonders if such intense studying of his face could give Vegard the answers that didn’t exist or reveal his only wish.

It did. For a boy who’s filled with doubt all the time these days, his big brother’s lips pressed against his feel strangely natural. It’s not their first and it won’t be their last. It can’t even be called a kiss—it’s genetically shared flesh against flesh, sharp inhales and shaky exhales. But it leaves Bård feeling more than he has felt in ages—not empty.

Every time it feels so strange yet so much like a home he just never knew before. Vegard places his hand on the left side of Bård’s face and thumbs his cheek gently. That’s what his first girlfriend did, or at least that’s what Vegard told Bård to have happened. Vegard pushes closer and Bård thinks he should stop overthinking everything for once. Every time this happens, every time Vegard leans in closer Bård is sure he’s going to shatter into pieces. Yet every time Vegard’s lips are pressed against his every broken piece in him is put together. Precisely the feelings that are almost too much to bear keep him alive.

Bård can’t remember the last time he felt this warm. This is his last dream left. He’s not empty.

He runs his fingers through Vegard’s curls – they’re finally growing long again after being cut for army.

He just needed to be warmed up, again.

**Author's Note:**

> It’s been approximately 84 years since I wrote or published anything here, but I'm planning on doing a proper comeback this summer. This one was a short little thing written in the honour of the National Kissing Day that ended about four five hours ago. It was written more out of boredom than inspiration, it's nearly 5 AM and I'm sorry for the lack of plot, rationality and good grammar--chances are this is going to be gone in the morning. But for now - I hope you enjoyed it.


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